


Chlorophytum comosum

by qyff



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plants, Pre-Relationship, hand holding happens maybe twice, omi is mentioned maybe once, plant daddyfication, slight relationship study, tasuku jogs w a plant at one point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25084864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qyff/pseuds/qyff
Summary: “You aren’t a plant, Tasuku...”It’s embarrassing, and maybe a little sad, how quickly a response forms in his brain. It’s not “him” speaking, per se, but rather what feels like an eternity of constant GODza fanservice training is hard to erase, and it’s hard to think rationally when Tsumugi has that teasing smile on his face.‘I would love being a plant, if it meant your gentle touches and loving care everyday of my life.’
Relationships: Takatoo Tasuku/Tsukioka Tsumugi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97





	Chlorophytum comosum

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the amazing [@vagorsol](https://twitter.com/vagorsol) !!!!!! what would i do w out u. nothing. that's what. 
> 
> and i guess [@givemecaprisun](https://twitter.com/givemecaprisun) too, my homie, my bro, my pog buddy,

It starts with a spider plant. 

To be more accurate, it starts with one of their usual small arguments. He’s accompanying Tsumugi to the flower shop,as always, and their conversation has drifted over to the last time Tasuku had to care for his best friend’s flowers. Or, in Tsumugi’s words, the lack of caring. Not that Tasuku hadn’t tried, of course, but he and plants just don’t mix. 

“Hydration is important. It’s how you stay healthy. I make sure to have a water bottle on hand all the time.” 

“You aren’t a plant, Tasuku...” 

It’s embarrassing, and maybe a little sad, how quickly a response forms in his brain. It’s not “him” speaking, per se, but rather what feels like an eternity of constant GODza fanservice training is hard to erase, and it’s hard to think rationally when Tsumugi has that teasing smile on his face. 

_ ‘I would love being a plant, if it meant your gentle touches and loving care everyday of my life.’ _

Ugh. He can handle the squeals of his fans, the annoyed looks from his former colleagues, and even the barely-suppressed laughter of the other Mankai members. But when it comes to Tsumugi… well, it was different. 

“Neither of us are, which is why—” He checks the time on his phone. ”We should hurry up, Tsumu. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

Tsumugi laughs, and grabs his hand. “Okay, Taachan. It won’t take long.”

That’s a lie, Tasuku knows, but as the sun sets, the soft rays illuminating the man in front of him, he can’t bring himself to care.

* * *

“What is this?” In his hands, Tsumugi is cradling a small plant. There’s nothing particularly special about it, Tasuku thinks. Its leaves—and there are a lot of them—are long. Droopy. Green. The most accurate description he can think of is if someone had snipped off and glued together multiple copies of Homare’s bangs. Theoretically, that would also mean multiple copies of his troupe mate, and as much as he appreciates him, there’s a limit to how much theoretical Homare Tasuku can take. 

“It’s a spider plant!” Tsumugi beams at Tasuku. “The storekeeper gave it to me—I picked it up this morning. Spider plants are very easy to propagate, so he already had some snips for his own. But most importantly, they’re really easy to take care of! You just need to water them maybe once a week? And make sure they get a decent amount of sun… I’m sure it won’t die too quickly.”

“And… what is it for?” Tasuku has a sneaking suspicion in his mind, but still allows himself a glimmer of hope.

Tsumugi’s smile only grows bigger and brighter. “For you, of course! A hardy plant for a… hardy person!” 

Hopes dashed.

“You have a lot of faith in me, Tsumu.”

“It’ll be fine.” Tsumugi has the audacity to laugh. “This will be the start of your plant daddy-fication!”

“My  _ what _ ?”

“...Sorry.” 

* * *

The plant lives for a day. And then a week. And then two weeks. 

It’s at this point that Tsumugi is especially excited; he’s started to tell everyone who would listen—which is a longer list than Tasuku had hoped—about how “amazing” it was that the plant was alive. A botanical miracle. 

Which is a bit rude, he thinks. It’s not as if he has a plant-killing agenda: his thumbs are just anything but green. And besides, spider plants are pretty easy to take care of. After Tsumugi had gone to bed, Tasuku had gone onto the internet and searched up gardening tips. He scattered little bullets around in his theatre notes, so that he could review sporadically during practices. 

It’s entirely in his right to be upset about this plant-based unintentional slander.

But to add insult to injury, Tsumugi,  _ his best friend who he’s known for forever _ , talks to the plant more than to him. 

“And how are you doing this morning?” Tsumugi coos at the plant, humming and whispering gentle words of affection. “You’re looking especially handsome today. Your leaves are so healthy! Grow nice and big, okay? I’m depending on you.” 

Tasuku glares at the plant across the room. Maybe he’s acting like a child, and he should be used to Tsumugi’s love of flowers and plants, but there was something about the treatment towards  _ this  _ particular piece of foliage that’s bothering him.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a test for me?” He tries to keep the accusation out of his tone. He’s not sure if it works. “I can take care of it myself. If I even need to—it’s been alive for long enough.”

“Hey! You’ll hurt his feelings.” Tsumugi gasps and cups his hands around where the plant would theoretically have ears—he’s joking, Tasuku knows, as the gasp is too drawn out and his tone becomes lighthearted—but the threat in his eyes seems a bit too genuine. “Don’t be rude to him.” 

“It’s a he?” That was news to Tasuku. “Does he have a name, then?” 

“You’re supposed to choose the name. You’re the dad.” 

“This dad has terrible naming skills.” Even after two weeks with the plant, Tasuku still doesn’t know how to describe it, much less name it—  _ him _ . “Homare’s Bangs But Green” would probably get him smacked. “Planty” makes him sound like a grade schooler. “Chikage”...is a name. “Leafy” is also a bit juvenile, but… maybe that is a good thing? 

“Tasuku?” 

“Uh… Green.”

“Greent?”

“Greeny.”

“... Greenée?” 

“Grene.” 

They stare at each other for a second, before Tsumugi shrugs. “Okay. Grene it is.”

“Great, so—” 

“Who’s a handsome little plant? It’s you, Grene!” 

* * *

Bonding with Grene was important, Tsumugi had said. “You should spend some quality time with him! Make a parent-child connection.”

Therefore, Tsumugi shouldn’t be too upset when he wakes up, seeing his beloved Grene gone. Tasuku grabs Grene, and tucks him under his arm. He does a cursory pat down of his pockets—keys, phone, wallet, all there. On his way out, he passes Omi. There’s no words exchanged between them, Omi merely passing a water bottle in his direction, but even Tasuku could see the laughter in his eyes. 

It’s only after Tasuku puts his shoes on, that Omi speaks.

“Have fun, you two.” 

“We will.”

When did he and Grene become a “we”?

* * *

Morning jogs always seem to have more feeling to them. Not thinking, but experiencing. The crisp, cool air as he would run, his lungs filled with the new day, almost untouched by the rest of the sleeping world. If Tasuku felt the most alive while acting, then he was in his calmest state when here.

Usually, that is. 

For the hour he ran, Tasuku kept switching Grene to different positions. Under one arm, hugged tightly to his body, even holding the pot straight out in front of him. But every step seemed to be a challenge as he did his best to keep any more soil from spilling. 

Eventually, he had to stop. Sighing, he gingerly places Grene onto a park bench, before collapsing next to him. Tasuku groaned. The physical strain of carrying a pot was nothing. But the mental strain? He tries to pretend like there wasn’t a faint trail of dirt leading up to them and down the sidewalk.

“You’re a handful, you know that? Heh. Or a pot-full, I guess.”

No response. Tasuku supposes he couldn’t expect much from a plant. But he is an experienced actor, used to the hesitations and failings of newer members. He could carry this conversation, to keep the flow going.

“Next time we go running, I’ll try to slow down for you. Sorry about all that spilled dirt. Tsumu says that different plants need different types of… soil mixtures? And compost can be added to raise the amount of nutrients you’re getting. We can even drop by the plant store later, if you’d like. My treat.”

It isn’t hard to pretend that the gentle swaying of Grene’s leaves is his own way of saying thanks, and not a byproduct of the soft breeze.

Tasuku pats Grene, with only the slightest bit of force, and stands up. “Let’s go home.” 

* * *

“Hey, Tsumugi,” he calls out to his friend, who’s still sleeping soundly in his loft bed. 

No response, but that was to be expected. Tasuku checks the alarm clock. Exactly ten in the morning. He places Grene on Tsumugi’s desk, next to his other plants, and begins to climb the ladder, stopping about halfway. 

“Tsumugi.” He starts poking the lump that is probably Tsumugi’s knees. “Tsumugi? Tsumu.” He drags out the childhood nickname, still waiting for any reaction. He gets one eventually, on what must have been the fiftieth prodding. 

“Ta-Taachan?” Tsumugi opens his eyes blearily, puts in the effort to rise up a little to make eye contact, but lets his head fall back onto the pillow with a light  _ thump _ . “We don’t have practice today… Let me enjoy my sleep, please.” 

Tasuku gives Tsumugi a few minutes of mercy—it’s no bother to him, watching Tsumugi sleep is almost therapeutic, but he’s sure that his best friend would appreciate this a bit more. He says slowly, “Do you want to go to the flower shop right now? They opened an hour ago.”

“Huh?!- Ow!” Sitting up straight, Tsumugi bangs his head on the ceiling. “Wh- Can you say that again?” 

“Are you okay?” Tasuku had frozen at the sight of Tsumugi hitting his head, but now climbs up the rest of the ladder, and onto the bed. Leaning forward, he runs his fingers through Tsumugi’s hair, feeling around. “Why is that your priority??? I think a lump is starting to form here…” 

“It’s fine—” Tsumugi grabs Tasuku’s hand and squeezes it between his own. “It’s fine! Did you say what I think you said?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Having Tsumugi’s face close to his own is too distracting for Tasuku to form a more suitable response. 

Tsumugi giggles in return, a light, airy thing, and somehow manages to squeeze past Tasuku and down the ladder. “Okay! Wait for me. I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Oh. Cool.” 

* * *

Despite being the one to ask Tsumugi out, Tasuku concludes that he is overwhelmingly unprepared. 

Next to him, Tsumugi is excitedly chatting with the old couple who run the store. The two must have been at least four times their age, but they all are able to keep up steady conversation. In comparison, Tasuku is lost. There are too many botanical terms to keep track of, and despite this not being his first time here, he still feels a bit uncomfortable. It’s hard to not longingly glance over to the corner with all the orchids, his safe haven in otherwise uncharted territory.

But instead, he stands firmly in place, hands clammy around Grene’s pot. Occasionally, someone throws a glance his way; Tsumugi reassuringly, the older couple critically. It’s the elderly woman who throws the sharpest of looks towards him, in a way that Tasuku feels is more reminiscent of Tsumugi’s own grandmother. He tries to stand up straighter. It reminds him of when he visited his first girlfriend’s parents, and the thought almost terrifies him.

Thankfully, the conversation ends eventually as Tsumugi claps his hands together. “So! That’s basically been everything with Grene. It feels nice to get everything off my chest—it’s as if I only seem to drop by when you two aren’t working.” 

The woman—her name tag, as Tasuku finally now sees, says Chiaki, her husband’s, Akito—laughs. “That’s true. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? It’s nice to see such nice development.” She looks towards him as she says the last word, her husband nodding along. “What are you going to do with the pups?”

“Huh?” Tasuku blinks, taken aback by the sudden question. “The what?” 

“The pups. The babies. Grene has begun to propagate.” She points to tiny, spider-like offshoots from Grene. Puzzle pieces begin to fall together in Tasuku’s mind.

“Taachan?” Tsumugi tilts his head, seemingly worried at Tasuku’s silence. 

In growing horror, Tasuku looks down at Grene, feeling a bit betrayed. “I’m too young to be a grandfather.” 

The flower shop is filled with howling laughter. It’s not nearly enough to drown out his own embarrassment. 

* * *

The walk back is quiet, almost contemplative. Around them, Veludo Way is bustling. People are doing street acts left and right, and the atmosphere seems especially joyous. But Tsumugi has been quiet since they waved goodbye to the old couple, and seems to be lost in deep thought.

Tasuku tightens his grip on the paper bag he’s holding, the bag making a slight crinkling noise in return. He’s not  _ un _ used to silence, even with Tsumugi, but he understands now that a lack of words can have their own consequences. He racks his mind for topics—Chiaki and Akito, Grene and his children, or even the street act they had just passed by, but Tsumugi speaks first.

“I was really surprised,” Tsumugi starts, eyes on Grene. “It makes me feel bad to say it, but it’s true.”

“What—” The words feel heavy on his tongue. “What do you mean?” 

Tsumugi still doesn’t look at him. “Honestly? I thought I was forcing you to do… all of this.” He lifts Grene up a bit, half-heartedly. “I know you aren’t really that into plants and gardening, yet I essentially forced Grene upon you. Sorry.” 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” Tasuku starts, unsure of where the conversation is leading up to. “You didn’t force anything upon me.” 

“I did though!” Finally, Tsumugi turns to meet his eyes, and it’s now that Tasuku understands. “I got too absorbed in everything, and—”

“Tsumu.” He stops, moving off to the side. Tsumugi does the same. He doesn’t want any of the passersby to think they’re doing a street act—while perhaps the most direct, and easiest, way to convey how he feels, it doesn’t seem appropriate. “I’m sorry.” 

“Taachan, what are you—” 

“I did all of this because I wanted to. It’s as simple as that. I know I’m not really good at this sort of delicate thing, and that I didn’t show much interest for so long, but that doesn’t mean that I’m against it.” The words he needs to say are blinking in and out of his mind—he’s one who expresses himself through actions, not words, but words are what Tsumugi needs right now. “This was my opportunity, and I took it. I’m… I’m sorry that I made you feel like I was uninterested.” 

Tsumugi blinks. 

Tasuku waits. 

Grene simply exists, as plants do.

“Okay.” 

“Huh?” 

“Okay.” Tsumugi steps back onto the sidewalk, holding Grene tight to his chest with one arm, using the other to grab Tasuku’s free hand. “Let’s go. Omi mentioned that he was going to try out a new egg dish as we left, so I want to get back as soon as possible.” 

“...Alright.” That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, but all’s well that ends well. Probably.

“Thank you, Taachan.” 

“Of course, Tsumu.” 

They turn onto the street where the dorms are, Tsumugi gently scuffing the sidewalk with his shoe. “Huh. There’s dirt.” 

“Yeah, I took Grene on a run this morning.” 

“H- Huh???” Tsumugi turns to him, horrified. “You did what?”

Maybe it’s not too late to apologize again. 

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as 'haha what if tasuku was jealous of a plant' and turned into a weird self indulgent lovemail-esque tasuku thought time. maybe i have too many thoughts about tasuku. it be like that sometimes.
> 
> thank you to everyone who managed to stick around to the end!!! much appreciated, very poggers


End file.
